


another colour coded crime

by whereshiphappens (xiiis16)



Series: golden boy [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: In which, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, alternative universe, and Theo is a fuckboy with a snapback and a skateboard, rating is for language mostly, stiles is the president's son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 19:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15847986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiiis16/pseuds/whereshiphappens
Summary: “You must think i’m a walking cliché, right?” Stiles spits back, turning his body to look at Theo who’s smirk stay in place and serves only to annoy Stiles further, “rich, privileged kid who’s got no idea how lucky he is that the specific prison he’s in happens to be covered in gold; guess what, it’s still a prison.”





	another colour coded crime

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by [this tumblr post that Julia made](http://raelinski-archive.tumblr.com/post/173469968693/presidents-sonfuckboy-steo-au-blame) that cured me from the longest goddamned writer's block i've ever had subsequently saving my whole entire soul.  
> i'm posting here because i love garbage and i want to see this tag filled to the brink :)  
> i hope you guys enjoy
> 
> ((also this was written in a spur of the moment and i'm the laziest asshole who couldn't be bothered with re-editing, so pardon the whole no caps thing))  
> (((well i fixed the caps things in the meantime, love all yall)))

* * *

 

 

“You certainly look out of place” says a voice somewhere off to his left, a tone almost amused to it. Stiles looks, hands gripping the concrete edge of the halfpipe he’s sitting on top of and there’s a boy down there, skate in hand and snapback backwards telling Stiles that, unlike himself, this is exactly where he belongs. He looks down on himself; is it the suit pants? White tailored shirt? The designer shoes? Or his whole DNA set? “I’ve never seen you here before,” the boy adds.

“Maybe you just don’t remember my face,” Stiles says and there’s a sarcastic hint in his voice; he knows his face has been on just about every newspaper and news channel sporadically for some years now. The odds of this dude not recognising him are pretty slim.

“I remember your face,” the guy’s climbing up the halfpipe, walking casually towards Stiles, “although I’ll admit it’s weird not seeing the whole pack of bodyguards and fancy people that were following you around last time - I almost didn’t recognise you without them.” He stops next to Stiles, who looks up at him to see the smirk directed at him. Stiles squints. His face looks familiar.

“Where do I know you from?” Stiles asks curious, more serious now.

“I’m Theo,” the boy says, sitting down, and Stiles’s back straightens at how close he sits. “Last time i saw you, you were also in one of those,” he points at across the street, to the big fancy building where he was supposed to be having dinner with his dad and all those important people and from which he managed to run from for a couple minutes. “And dead set on pissing your dad off by drinking yourself stupid,” he finishes.

Stiles sighs, bites his lip and nods. Yeah, he remembers that - valiant effort, not very productive results; he thought he’d get his dad’s attention with that one, and yet, here he was, still being treated like a child instead of an adult, having to run off because he didn’t even have permission to leave the goddamned building.

“You were working there, weren’t you?” It clicks. Theo nods, smirk still in place. Stiles shifts, moving a little further away from Theo who is definitely very close.

“Kinda wish I could’ve helped you, you looked like fun. But we had very specific orders to not get very close to you.” Stiles frowns and looks back at Theo.

“What?” The frustration already in his chest builds and travels towards his veins and suddenly his hands are curled into fists. This must be some stupid policy of his father’s team - try and control him by controlling the people around him and who he hangs around with in the first place. He feels trapped.

A dry laugh escapes him and he looks over at the building he’s supposed to be in - he’s pretty sure soon enough they’re gonna notice he’s missing, if they haven’t already.

“So, you ran away this time,” Theo says casually, skateboard in his lap, fingers playing with the wheels, “no alcohol in there?” he sounds amused and somewhat condescending and it pisses Stiles off.

“You must think I’m a walking cliché, right?” Stiles spits back, turning his body to look at Theo who’s smirk stay in place and serves only to annoy Stiles further, “rich, privileged kid who’s got no idea how lucky he is that the specific prison he’s in happens to be covered in gold; guess what, it’s still a prison.”

Theo laughs, “no, yeah, i’m sure it is,” he looks across the street again, “and it seems like your guards are right on time.” Stiles looks in the direction Theo nods towards and sure enough, the security team and other employees of his father’s are coming out of the building, no doubt looking for him, “might want to run further than across the street next time, if you don’t want to get caught.”

Stiles sighs, “I just wanted to be able to think.”

“Of new ways to piss off dear dad?” Theo mocks.

“Fuck off,” Stiles curses and Theo laughs again. He puts the skateboard down on the concrete and leans back on his hands. “I’m not in control of my own life, everything is monitored, I get told what I can and can’t do and I’m being robbed of… everything!” Stiles lets out.

Theo is looking at him attentively, his eyes roaming across his face with an intensity that Stiles isn’t comfortable staring back at.

“Even who you fuck?” he asks, out of nowhere. Stiles' eyes widen and he chokes a little on whatever he was about to say, clearly not expecting that question.

“What?” he stutters, cheeks heating up. Theo stands up straighter again, not taking his eyes from Stiles’ face.

“Do they tell you who you get to fuck as well?” the way he says it is completely unashamed, like he’s not asking a complete stranger about his sex life. Stiles opens his mouth, tries to think of something smart to say to it, but it’s like his tongue is tied and the longer the silence goes, the redder he can feel his face become and he hates it.

Slowly Theo grins like he’s realising something and it only makes it worse, “god, you’re adorable,” he says and bites his lip briefly like he’s trying to control his smile. Yeah, okay, good to know Stiles’ lack of experience is, apparently, written all over his face. Hopefully not the whole extent of it, though. “Now I really wish I’d helped you that day,” he says, lowers his face and looks at him in a way that is so suggestive Stiles discovers that it is indeed possible to blush even more.

How did that escalate this quickly?

“Who says I would’ve wanted your help with… anything?” Stiles manages to say back and he’s really proud of himself for putting those words out there. Theo is stupidly handsome, and he way he carries himself tells Stiles he knows it very well, most likely because it has given him exactly what he wants before. Stiles’ eyes flicker to across the street where his bodyguards are organising and preparing to expand their search to the park where he’s standing.

“Fair enough,” Theo says in a low tone, “but at least the choice would’ve been all yours.”

Stiles looks over at him. his eyes drop to the smirk on Theo’s lips and he thinks about those words for a long second. A rush of heat surges through him as a stupid, spontaneous thought crosses his mind.

Fuck it.

He reaches over, lips crashing against Theo’s, who laughs - fucking laughs - against his before his hands snake around Stiles’ waist and pull until Stiles is closer. He gasps at the strength and that’s an opportunity Theo takes to slide his tongue against Stiles’ bottom lip.

It truly is a rush, and Theo’s other hand comes to rest on his cheek, before his fingers travel a little further to the back of his neck and his thumb caresses his jaw - along with the arm he’s got wrapped around Stiles’ waist, it creates the leverage he needs to hoist Stiles onto his lap. The kiss breaks for a second and none of them say a word. Stiles’ legs are on each side of Theo’s lap and he accidentally kicks Theo’s skateboard down the halfpipe, sending it tumbling noisily.

Instinctively they both look at across the street; the noise must certainly have caught Stiles’ body guards’ attention, they’ll be here to get Stiles back in a matter of moments. So Stiles turns back around at a smirking Theo, who’s wet lips steal his attention for a slip second, before he focuses on his eyes again. “You’re gonna get in trouble,” Theo mumbles, sing-songy. His hands are still in Stiles’ hips though, and he doesn’t look like he wants to go anywhere.

“Yeah,” Stiles looks back for a moment. They’re definitely getting closer. He puts his hands on top of Theo’s, and starts dragging them further down, “might as well make the most of it, right?” Theo’s fingers curl around Stiles’ ass and he bits his lip again, before an amused laugh escapes him and he’s back to hungrily kiss Stiles’s mouth.

Later, when his dad is scolding him, Stiles’ lips are still red and abused and he can’t stop biting on them, feeling Theo’s touch still all over. He’s not really listening, to be fair; all he can think about is _not bad_ … not bad at all, for a first kiss.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on tumblr, here :) ](https://whereshiphappens.tumblr.com)


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